HE NEW PLATO 



THOMAS L.MASSON 




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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



THE NEW PLATO 



THE NEW PLATO 

OR 

SOCRATES REDIVIVUS 



BY 

THOMAS L. MASSON 

n 



NEW YORK 
MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY 

1908 



lUBRARYof &0Ne^E3S 
Two Copies Hetdivxi 

MAR 26 i ^08 

copy a. 



23^7 



T5 



Copyright 1908, by 
MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY 

All Riphts Reserved 

Published March, 1908 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Married Life 1 

II. The Gambler 13 

III. The Bridge Player 31 

IV. On Socialism 47 

V. Learning 57 

VI. On Surgeons 71 

VII. The Tariff 79 

VIII. Philosophy 87 

IX. The Missionary 101 

X. The Nature of Happiness. 113 



PREFACE 

THE reading of Plato is, like that of 
the Bible, only in a smaller way, in- 
dulged in by all supposedly educated 
Americans during their University days 
and remembered only in form. Indeed, 
the Bible has this advantage over Plato: 
it is read publicly every Sunday, so that 
snatches of its verbal grandeur must of 
necessity percolate through the minds of 
some of our more prominent citizens who 
have a reputation to maintain and there- 
fore consider church-going in the nature 
of a necessity. But Plato stands un- 
opened on the bookshelves. 

It might be well occasionally in place of 
one of our modern sermons to substitute 
[v] 



PREFACE 

the reading of one of Plato's dialogues. 
Socrates, as Emerson pointed out, is often 
tiresome. Yet he has the advantage of 
being generally instructive. 

Every reader of Plato is struck by his 
modernness. He never grows old. He 
is always of To-day. It was this which 
has led me to apply the form of his dia- 
logues — familiar to students in Jowett's 
translation — to some phases of our mod- 
ern life. 

In writing this book I have made no 
attempt to be serious. It would be quite 
proper (and usual) for me to say at this 
point, that if this volume should lead my 
reader to take up once again the study of 
Plato, then I should feel that it has not 
been written in vain. But even at the risk 
of disappointing a vast multitude, I shall 
not say this expected word. For the truth 
is, there is no reason why I should desire 
any one to read Plato. No modern author 
[vi] 



PREFACE 

should encourage in any way the sale 
of old books. It is distinctly bad busi- 
ness. 

On the contrary, I should prefer, with 
due regard, of course, to that true mod- 
esty which no author should wholly dis- 
pense with, to press some of the advan- 
tages of this book upon the hesitating 
reader. The type is purposely made so 
large that it can be easily read after dark 
on most of our principal railroad systems. 
It is not too long to be fatiguing, and, 
indeed, may be tossed aside at any point 
without regard to the author's feelings. 
It has a mildly intellectual atmosphere, 
greatly in its favor and highly desirable; 
for example, at house parties. It is pleas- 
antly dialectic in tone and contains no 
morbid allusions. It is not too humorous 
(a phrase which I hereby give the book 
reviewers leave to quote in place of the 
usual set criticism) , and it has this grand 
[vii] 



PREFACE 

quality: that what satire it may contain 
never applies to the reader, but always to 
some one else; so that every one may feel 
perfectly safe to read it. 



[ viii ] 



MARRIED LIFE 



MARRIED LIFE 

THE party was assembled at the house 
of Critias. And Hippias, the mar- 
ried man, was there. Though how he got 
away no one knows. While they were jest- 
ing about this, a servant came in and an- 
nounced that Socrates was without. 

Ah! said Hippias, I have been wait- 
ing for this, because I understand that 
Socrates has said something about mar- 
riage and women not altogether to their 
credit. And you, Critias, he said, turning 
to the host, have certainly upheld him. 

By Hercules! replied Critias, I am 
not to defend Socrates, who must speak 
for himself and who can take care of what 
he says. 

[1] 



THE NEW PLATO 

What's this? said Socrates, coming 
in and sitting on the couch beside Hip- 
pias. Can it be, he said, turning to the 
married man, that you have something 
to say about your condition? 

I was only saying, replied Hippias, 
that I was glad of this opportunity of 
meeting with you, who have certain opin- 
ions, I understand, about women and their 
treatment, and I should like to know how 
you feel about it, Socrates, above all 
things. 

You are wrong, said Socrates, be- 
cause you must know that I have no opin- 
ion about women or their treatment. I 
have been married too long for that. But 
I am after the truth of this matter, as you 
say; and first, Hippias, I would ask you 
what is your own opinion of women, or if 
you have any? 

That is just like you, Socrates, and I 
understand very well what you wish. Be- 
[2] 



MARRIED LIFE 

cause when I give you my opinion, you 
will begin to put me at fault. Besides, 
you are the one who must tell what 
you know. 

But, replied Socrates, smiling, I have 
confessed that I wish to learn. How- 
ever, Hippias, let us find out the nature 
of this thing, or arrive at some starting- 
point. What would you say, Hippias, if 
I should tell you there were no drygoods 
stores? 

I should laugh at you, Socrates. 

And should you continue to laugh if 
I should state there were no milliners? 

Perhaps I would not have the heart to 
laugh at that. But I should refute what 
you say. 

Very well, then. And if I should 
speak of dressmakers and jewelers and 
women's clubs and declare they did not 
exist, would you not contradict me? 

Most certainly. 

[3] 



THE NEW PLATO 

And how about other things, Hippias? 
Are there any cosmetics; are there fancy 
drugs and sweetmeats and decorating 
estabhshments and bridge parties and 
sewing circles and a number of other 
things of this description? And suppose 
I should deny all this — what would you 
say? 

I should say that you were a crazy 
man. 

But for you and me, Hippias, these 
things do not exist. 

No. 

And they do not exist for Critias and 
Gorgias here, or Alcibiades — except per- 
fumery, Hippias, and you know Alci- 
biades cannot help that. 

Yes, yes. I understand what you mean, 
Socrates. 

But you assert these things are. 

I do — certainly. 

Then if not for us, for some one else. 
[4] 



MARRIED LIFE 

Yes, Socrates, I should say for some 
one else. 

And what is your opinion, Hippias, 
as to who that is ? 

Would I be wrong in asserting that it 
is Woman? 

Xo; I think you would be quite right. 
You should say, then, Hippias, that 
women exist for these purposes. 

I do not think I quite understand you, 
Socrates. For what purposes did you 
say? 

At this Critias interrupted. 

Hippias is afraid to speak, he said, 
because he fears his wife is somewhere 
about. But I assure you, he said to Hip- 
pias, you are perfectly safe. 

Have no fear, said Socrates. Xan- 
thippe, who, as you know, is my own 
wife, never would think of coming here, 
and we can therefore go on with the 
discussion. I think, Hippias, you under- 
[5] 



THE NEW PLATO 

stand about milliners, dressmakers, and 
others ? 

Yes. 

And are they women themselves, or for 
women? 

I should say, for women. 

Then there is a difference between 
them? 

Oh, yes. 

What is that difference, O Hippias? 
One is not without the other. They do 
not exist apart. 

Hippias straightened up, looking about 
to see that the doors were closed. 

There is really no difference, he re- 
plied, excej)t that they both might be 
compared to a comet and a tail. Woman 
is the comet, and all the things you men- 
tion string out behind her like a long tail. 
Now, Socrates, as I see the matter, women 
exist for purposes of motherhood, no 
more, no less, eh? But, in reality, they 

[6] 



MARRIED LIFE 

rule the world. Nine-tenths of all the 
things that are bought they buy, being 
untrained for this purpose from baby- 
hood. The result is that we men are 
obliged to toil twice as hard as need be, 
in order to supply women with wealth 
enough to squander on things which their 
whole training has not fitted them to se- 
lect. They rule us, Socrates, because of 
the immense advantage they have in never 
forgetting a trivial thing. That is to say, 
they nag us into obedience, and we find it 
easier for our peace of mind to give in to 
them, and be their slaves, rather than to 
run the risk of having them never let up 
on us. And so they always get what they 
want. In short, nine-tenths of all the busi- 
ness of the world — for, take away those 
you have mentioned, milliners, drygoods 
merchants, and others, and only about one- 
tenth would remain — is conducted by 
women, who are thoroughly incompetent 
[7] 



THE NEW PLATO 

to undertake it; and yet we permit them 
to do it because we are afraid to be bad- 
gered. 

That is a long speech for you to make, 
Hippias, said Socrates, and I think you 
are well able to discourse on the subject. 
Only you came near causing me trouble. 

How is that? said Hippias. I hope, 
he added, you agree with what I say? 

At this all the company, perceiving Soc- 
rates was anxious over something, arose. 

Yes, he said, Hippias, I agree with 
what you say, only I must be going along, 
and I advise your doing the same. For, 
as I said, your long talk came near getting 
me into trouble. This is the hour, Hip- 
pias, when my wife gives an afternoon 
tea, and should I fail to be there, I might 
hot be able to attend another symposium 
for a season. 

At this Hippias turned pale. 

Promise me, he said, that nothing of 
[8] 



MARRIED LIFE 

my speech will be repeated. Because, 
Socrates, he added, pleadingly, I, too, 
for the moment had entirely forgotten that 
I was a married man. 

And they hurried out arm in arm, the 
sympathy of the whole company being 
with them. 



[9] 



THE GAMBLER 



II 



THE GAMBLER 



GLAUCON came in while Thrasyma- 
chus was still silent, and sat beside 
Adseimantus. 

He had been at the Exchange and his 
face was flushed. He wanted to know 
what the argument was about. 

About the nature of Justice and In- 
justice, said Socrates. But unless I am 
mistaken, you have something better to 
tell us, for you have, I see, been a victor 
at some game. Now, I did not suspect 
you to be a discus thrower nor yet a verse- 
maker, and you must tell us what it is 
that makes you so flushed. For, my dear 
Glaucon, you cannot be drunk so early in 
the day. 

[13] 



THE NEW PLATO 

No, indeed, replied Glaucon; only I 
was thinking, as I came in and learned 
you were discussing the nature of Justice 
and Injustice, that surely there can be 
nothing more foolish than words of this 
sort when you might, as I have done, be 
making ten thousand drachmse on the rise 
in Copper. 

And when did this occur? asked Soc- 
rates. 

It has just occurred, replied Glau- 
con, smiling. And surely Justice and 
Injustice, the nature of which, I believe, 
can never be determined, are of small 
consequence beside this Great Fact. 
And if you, therefore, had not wasted 
your time, but had bought Copper, as I 
did, you might all be rich instead of 
ignorant. 

I am sure, Glaucon, said Socrates, 
that we are all indeed ignorant, as you 
say; but as for the rest, bj^ Zeus! I do not 
[14] 



THE GAMBLER 

understand. And yet I should be glad to 
know how this may be. 

That would have been easy if you had 
bought when I did. 

And I would have benefited in like 
proportion with you? 

Certainly you would. 

And if I had benefited with you, then 
another, if he had done likewise, would 
have benefited? 

Nothing, Socrates, could be more cer- 
tain than that. 

Let me understand you, Glaucon, at 
this point, said Socrates, for it is high- 
ly important to the course of the in- 
quiry, that we fall into no error. It is 
agreed, then, that I, by buying Cop- 
per at the same time as you, would 
have received benefit, and likewise an- 
other? 

Yes, that is it, said Glaucon. 

And if Thrasymachus here had bought, 
[15] 



THE NEW PLATO 

he would have benefited also without 
doubt? 

Yes. 

And would Adseimantus ? 

Yes, Adseimantus likewise. 

And if Thrasymachus and Adaeiman- 
tus, there would be others? 

Yes, others. 

Suppose we say Polemarchus; would 
you agree? 

Yes. 

And Clertophon and Cephalus? 

Yes, indeed. 

And Gorgias, the Sophist, and Poli- 
drus and Critias? 

Yes. 

And if they, then also their friends and 
acquaintances? 

Certainly. 

And if their friends, then the friends 
of their friends, for if one received a bene- 
fit, then all would? 

[16] 



THE GAMBLER 

That is precisely the truth, Socrates, 
said Glaucon; and do you not see that 
this would make more buying, so that the 
price would go still higher? 

I cannot deny the truth of that, said 
Socrates, with a smile, and I would ask 
you, Glaucon, to admit that as the benefit 
is for one and slightly more for two, then 
it would only be complete when all have 
bought, so that when this was finally ac- 
complished and every one had become a 
buyer of Copper, then we would be a na- 
tion of rich men, snapping our fingers at 
Fate. 

Glaucon assented to this with some re- 
luctance. 

And would you, Glaucon, be satisfied 
with Copper alone, or would you want 
something else? 

Something else. 

You would wish good wine and a seat 
in the theater and maybe a chariot or so, 
[17] 



THE NEW PLATO 

lovers and sandals and lambs' meat and 
pulse and other things with which to re- 
fresh your body. 

Yes. 

And so you would wish to exchange 
some of the Copper you had bought for 
these things and more? 

So it would seem. 

And Thrasymachus here would feel the 
same? 

Yes. 

And also the others? 

Yes, the others. 

And each one of them would sell his 
Copper to get these things, for we cannot 
live by Copper alone. 

That is so. 

And would you be surprised, my dear 
Glaucon, when this had been done, if the 
price of Copper should fall to where it 
was when you bought it? 

I should think that very likely. 
[18] 



THE GAMBLER 

And even lower? 

Yes, lower. And I know now of what 
you are leading me to, Socrates, for you 
think to catch me in a trap by your honey 
words. For we cannot, as you say, eat 
Copper, and therefore we must exchange 
it for other things, and the price depends 
only upon the law of supply and demand, 
and not upon a value attached to the thing 
itself. And this I understand better than 
any man living, for I know how to buy 
when it is down and when to sell when it 
is up. And if all men did exactly the 
same, there would, of course, be no actual 
benefit, but only those who are wise and 
who use their judgments and accordingly 
reap the benefits. For the fear of other 
men, and likewise their confidence, is what 
I must estimate; and if I do this rightly, 
I will surely benefit. And what is the 
use of talking to you, with your hair-split- 
ting distinctions, when the Great Fact re- 
[19] 



THE NEW PLATO 

mains that I have made the profit, that I 
have achieved happiness? And in face 
of this, words are of no avail, for it is the 
money that talks, and you cannot get 
around that. 

By Hercules! said Socrates, that is 
a long speech for you to make, my dear 
boy, and I seem to be all in confusion and 
groping about in the dark. And I hardly 
know how to answer you, although I dare 
say you are right, and there is no use in 
talking any more. Still, there is a little 
matter I should like to have set at rest, 
and of which I have no doubt you will 
be able to satisfy me. Let me ask you, 
therefore, whether this is the only time you 
have won, or whether you have won and 
also lost before ; for I believe it to be true 
that you have spent much time on the 
Exchange. 

I have both won and lost before, said 
Glaucon. 

[20] 



THE GAMBLER 

And have you won more, in the total 
amount of your winnings, than you have 
lost? 

I should say that I had, counting this 
time, and as I have just said, you cannot 
get around that. 

I am not trying to get around that, my 
dear friend, but only to clear away the 
clouds of ignorance from my stupid brain. 
And I should like to ask you if ever you 
have won as much at one time as you have 
won now, or is this your greatest win- 
ning? 

Not my greatest, for once or twice I 
have won more than this. 

And were you as happy then about it 
as now? 

I should say I was as happy. 

More or less? 

More, Socrates, when I won more, and 
less when I won less. 

I like that about you, Glaucon, be- 
[21] 



THE NEW PLATO 

cause your answer is so clear. And it 
appears that at the time you won more 
than you have now you were happier than 
you are now in proportion to your win- 
ning then over now. 

So it appears. 

And you are less happy now than you 
were when you won more than you have 
now, in proportion to the difference. 

That is right. 

And you would be still happier if you 
won more? 

Yes. 

And less happy if you had won less? 

Yes, less happy. 

Then, Glaucon, you are not so happy 
as you might be. 

Glaucon gave a reluctant consent to 
this. 

But I am still happier than you, he 
added. 

I have no doubt of this, replied Soc- 
[22] 



THE GAMBLER 

rates, for indeed I am the most miser- 
able of men, and all because I have not 
your divine judgment in buying and sell- 
ing on the Exchange, which appears to 
me marvelous. Nevertheless, Glaucon, 
unless I am mistaken, and I hope you will 
correct me if I am, then you are no hap- 
pier now than you were at a time when 
you won just as much and no more than 
you have won? 

No; for that would be the same. 

And you were just as happy, no more 
or no less? 

Yes, just as happy. 

Then the condition of your happiness, 
whether it is the same now as it was, de- 
pends upon the condition of your win- 
nings, and when they are more, it is more, 
and when they are less, it is less. And 
from this it would seem that your happi- 
ness, like those instruments which rise or 
fall according to the changes in the weath- 
[23] 



THE NEW PLATO 

er, corresponds likewise to the price of 
Copper or other things you buy. 

On the contrary, rephed Glaucon, 
you are all wrong, for my happiness de- 
pends upon my judgment, which deter- 
mines what I shall buy, and this is excel- 
lent and provides me with a system which 
is better than the system used by others. 

But it is not so good as it might be, 
for you have just acknowledged that you 
are not so happy as you might be. 

But it is good enough. 

Glaucon here started to rise, and said 
suddenly that he must be going as he had 
something to attend to. 

Where are you going? said Socrates. 

On a journey to Egypt, replied 
Glaucon, for I need the rest and change, 
having been subjected to much nervous 
excitement, and I must go and make the 
arrangements, for the trireme sails from 
the Piraeus to-morrow. 
[24] 



THE GAMBLER 

But why should you go there if you 
are as happy now as you have just said? 

Because, O Socrates, as I have ex- 
plained, I have won my journey, and 
therefore I am going. 

Then it must be true, O Glaucon,- that 
your happiness is not here, but in Egypt, 
for otherwise you would be more con- 
tented here; and yet you said that the 
Great Fact was that you had won, and 
that was enough in itself. But this ap- 
pears not to be so, but that in reality you 
are dependent upon Egypt. I am curi- 
ous about this, for still there seems to be 
something we have not discovered. 

At this moment a slave entered and 
handed Glaucon a message, and his hands 
trembled as he unfolded the papyrus. 

By Poseidon! he exclaimed, they are 

calling on me for margin, for it seems 

while I have been idling my time here 

there has been a great fall in prices 

[25] 



THE NEW PLATO 

amounting almost to a panic and Copper 
fell ten points in almost no time. Oh, 
why did I linger here ! 

Adseimantus and Thrasymachus tried 
to console him, but Socrates did not join 
them. Indeed, this strange man is a puz- 
zle to all. 

O Glaucon, he said, can it be that 
we were both wrong? For first it ap- 
peared that your happiness was depend- 
ent upon others, according as they bought 
and sold. Then it appeared dependent 
on the prices themselves, then upon your 
judgment, and after that upon Egypt. 
But now, my stricken friend, it is plain 
that I alone am responsible; for had you 
not stopped to listen to me, all would have 
been well. 

Yes, retorted Glaucon, you are the 

one, and I might have known it, for I had 

in mind to sell out when I had good profit, 

but thought I would wait a little until the 

[26] 



THE GAMBLER 

price grew higher, when I would make 
still more, and you, by your silly clatter, 
kept me from watching the market, as I 
should have done. 

And that is where you were wrong, 
indeed, replied Socrates; for to depend 
upon me in any way, my dear Glaucon, 
is to adopt a foolish expedient, and one 
which I myself cannot even recommend, 
for am I not myself always going to others 
for counsel? 



r 27 1 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 



Ill 

THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

Socrates, who narrates the dialogue. 

Companion. 

Protagoras, the Bridge Player, 

Hippocrates. 

COMPANION: I was wondering, 
Socrates, where you could have 
been, for at the house of CaUias they had 
not seen you, and Alcibiades, who has 
been in Macedonia at a motor-chariot race 
and just returned, did not know of your 
whereabouts, and, though I inquired at 
the Theater of Dionysus, they could not 
say where you were. 

Socrates : I believe I heard a rumor to 
the effect that Alcibiades was victor in the 
[31] 



THE NEW PLATO 

motor-chariot games ; his car, if I mistake 
not, being the first. And I was about to 
seek him out and congratulate him. But 
I was detained. 

Com.: Yes, he was, Socrates. And 
how were you detained? For it seems 
strange to me that you should have been 
kept back from your quest of Alcibiades, 
for certainly you could not have discov- 
ered a fairer love. 

Soc. : Yet that may well be. 

Com.: In Athens? 

Soc. : Yes, in Athens. 

Com.: Then sit down and tell me, for 
I am curious to know. Of what land is he 
a native? 

Soc. : Of Abdera, next to the Deme of 
Chicago, and since he has been here he 
has been surrounded by some of the most 
noted men and women, who have flocked 
to his instruction. And yesterday morn- 
ing early I was awakened by Hippocrates, 
[32] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

the son of ApoUodorus, who thumped at 
my door; and upon my answering he 
said that Protagoras, the Bridge-Whist 
Player, had come. 

Of course, I said, and is he indeed so 
wonderful ? 

You should hear him discourse, re- 
plied Hippocrates, for he holds that all 
virtue is contained in Bridge playing, and 
you know that clubs have been formed 
all over, according to his instruction, and 
women are specially interested and play 
all the time. Indeed, they say that every 
gyngeconitis is being dedicated to the new 
Bridge god, and I should like you, Socra- 
tes, to go and hear what he has to say ; for 
surely if there is all this virtue in Bridge, 
we must not be behindhand in the means 
of acquiring it. 

You are quite right, Hippocrates, I 
said, for life is so short that wisdom of 
the best is not easy to attain. 
[33] 



THE NEW PLATO 

And hurrying on my sandals, we pro- 
ceeded to the vestibule of the house; and, 
thinking we were common Euchre play- 
ers, we were at first not admitted. But 
at last the man opened the door and we 
came in. 

Protagoras was there dealing the cards 
to a table of women who had come on 
from the Deme of Philadelphia, and there 
was considerable chattering going on, 
Protagoras explaining meanwhile the va- 
rious cards to play. But as soon as I came 
in he laid them down and welcomed me, 
while the women kept on. 

You have come, Socrates, he said, to 
learn Bridge, and certainly there is no 
better teacher than I am; and I maintain 
that it leads to virtue, and that nothing is 
wanting to those who play it. Now, there 
are some teachers of Bridge who will not 
admit that they accept money, as if it were 
something to be ashamed of; but I am 
[34] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

of the other sort who receive my due — 
for this I have practised for years — 
and there can be no harm in anything 
which is of such benefit to the State 
and which is the source of so much 
virtue. 

There seems to be a confusion here, 
Protagoras, I repHed, and before we 
proceed I should like to have you set me 
right; for first, you tell me that I have 
come here to learn Bridge from you, and 
then you imply that I shall also acquire 
virtue. This is, indeed, more than I bar- 
gained for, and I should like you to tell 
me the diiference between Bridge and 
Virtue. 

There is none, replied Protagoras, for 
by learning one you acquire the other, 
for the two things are inseparable; and 
you know that virtue lies most in women, 
who are by far the best Bridge players, 
which is one proof. And the other is this, 
[35] 



THE NEW PLATO 

O Socrates, and I should like to have you 
listen attentively. 

I assure you I am listening, Protagoras, 
said I, for when pearls of wisdom are set 
before me in such a glistening array I am 
fairly enraptured at the sight. 

Well, then, he proceeded, when men, 
and after them women appeared, the gods 
bestowed upon them certain gifts, such as 
Heroism, Justice, Government, and so on ; 
but the women, when this had been done, 
were dissatisfied, for they complained that 
whereas upon man had been bestowed oc- 
cupations enough to keep him busy, all 
they could do was to invent duties of their 
own, such as spending money and taking 
care of children, and so they demanded 
that something lofty and inspiring be 
likewise presented to them, so that they 
would know what to do with themselves 
afternoons, and which at the same time 
would tend toward the highest virtue; 
[36] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

for they desired something really serious 
besides Religion. Apollo held council and 
decreed that they should have the gift 
of Bridge. But Orpheus, the son of 
CEagrus, because he was suffered to die 
at the hands of a woman, cast a spell 
over the decree, so that generations 
should pass before women should come 
to their own, and when this came about 
they should be taught by men. Hence 
it happens that both men and women 
play, but women gain by it the most; 
and especially is this so when there 
is a stake, for they are obliged by the gods 
only to appear to play a square game, 
whereas in reality they rely upon the for- 
bearance of man, who has no chance 
against them except when he be a new 
player, when he usually holds the best 
cards, until he has learned how. And this 
is why, Socrates, there can be no differ- 
ence between Bridge and Virtue. 
[37] 



THE NEW PLATO 

When Protagoras had finished I looked 
at Hippocrates and said: 

O Son of Hippocrates, I am indeed 
grateful to you for having brought me 
hither, for surely no one could be so wise 
as Protagoras. But there is still one small 
difficulty which I should like him to ex- 
plain, and I should like to ask you, Pro- 
tagoras, if, as you say. Virtue came first 
and Bridge afterward — for I assume that 
you admit this — what was the nature of 
Virtue before it came to be Bridge? 

It was, he said, divided into three 
parts — morning, afternoon and evening — 
and it consisted in occupying oneself with 
one's house, one's children and one's hus- 
band. But afterward these were all 
changed into Bridge. 

Well, then, I said. Courage is Bridge. 

Surely, Socrates, for it takes courage to 
double it back with only the ace of hearts 
and one other suit. 

[38] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

.And Justice is Bridge. 

It must be, he said, for if a man go out 
to his club and play poker night after 
night, it is but justice that his wife should 
belong to as many Bridge clubs as she 
likes. 

And Temperance is Bridge? 

It was some time before Protagoras 
replied to this, and Ctesippus, who was 
always inclined to be caustic, began quot- 
ing from the poet Stasinus, who sings : 

Of Zeus, the author and creator of these 

things 
You will not tell ■■ 

But Protagoras interrupted him and 
said, hastily. Yes, Socrates, Temperance 
is Bridge, for it is only by Temperance 
that we can win, for if we had not Tem- 
perance we would always be making it 
without ; and by Temperance also we play 
to the score. 

[ 39 J 



THE NEW PLATO 

But are there hours of the day or night, 
I said, when women will not play? 

No, he said, there are not. 

And you admit freely, I said, that she 
will get up and leave the baby, or will lie 
out of an engagement, or will pretend to 
be sick to a relative who is coming, or will 
resort to any expedient if there comes a 
message from some one in the suburbs, 
whom possibly she has never seen but once, 
to fill in at a game. 

I admit that, he said. 

And is Temperance the opposite of In- 
temperance? 

Yes, he said. 

And are opposites like or unlike? 

They are unlike. 

And those things which are unlike 
are opposites, or are they something 
else? 

They are opposites. 

And she who goes to play Bridge, no 
[40] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

matter where or when, or what she is do- 
ing, is always temperate? 

That is what I maintain, he said. 

And how about flute playing — if she 
were asked to leave her husband to play 
the flute, would that be temperate? 

No, Socrates, he said, that would be in- 
temperate — but it is not Bridge. 

And of an author's reading? 

The same. 

And of shopping and golf and the like? 

All the same, he said. 

Then, I said, O Protagoras, if she be 
asked to go to two games of Bridge, at 
one and the same time, which might easily 
happen, she would refuse to go to the 
shorter and would naturally go to the 
longer ? 

Yes, the longer. 

And by going to the longer she would 
stay away from the shorter? 

Yes. 

[41] 



THE NEW PLATO 

And the one that is shorter is shorter 
than the one which is long? 

That is so, he said. 

And that which is longer is longer than 
that which is short? 

He nodded. 

And is the short like the long, or un- 
like? 

It is unlike. 

And things which are unlike cannot be 
like? 

They cannot. 

And the like is opposite to that which is 
unlike? 

It is, he said. 

And that game of Bridge which is 
longer than the other is temperate? 

He was obliged to admit this. 

And the other is unlike, therefore op- 
posite? 

He reluctantly said, Yes. 

Then, Protagoras, Bridge is temperate 
[42] 



THE BRIDGE PLAYER 

sometimes and intemperate at others. But 
Virtue is never intemperate. 

And with this I was about to conclude 
the argument, when a chorus of voices 
from one of the tables interrupted me. It 
seems that a hand had just been finished 
by the Philadelphia dames, who desired 
to discuss it with Protagoras, and had I 
not made good my escape I should have 
had them all about my ears, for they be- 
gan howling at me and calling me a tire- 
some intermeddler, and Hippocrates stood 
between us while I fled. 

Com. : And what do you conceive from 
this, Socrates, to be the lesson? 

Soc: I should say it was never to 
argue when women are present, and never 
to try and find out a reason for playing 
Bridge ; for only the gods know, and I am 
not inclined to believe they will tell, just 
at present. 

[43] 



ON SOCIALISM 



IV 



ON SOCIALISM 



PAUSANIAS, who had long taken an 
interest in the State and the rise and 
fall of political parties, and who was pres- 
ent at the Symposium where Alcibiades 
disgraced himself by coming in drunk, 
has recorded a conversation between Soc- 
rates and Alcibiades which took place dur- 
ing one of their campaigns. And it would 
seem that Alcibiades, though pleasure- 
loving in the extreme, was nevertheless 
taken up with questions of the day, and 
desired to learn, though afterward he 
proved himself too rash in politics and 
hastened the downfall of the State. I 
met Alcibiades at a banquet given in the 
house of Callicles, said Pausanias, and 
[47] 



THE NEW PLATO 

while I cannot tell all that he related to 
me as having passed between him and Soc- 
rates, I will relate as much as I know. 
Now, they were in Macedonia, reclining 
at ease under a plane tree, when a mes- 
senger brought tidings of a Socialistic 
movement in the Deme of Paterson and 
Alcibiades was for branding all those 
who took part in the movement and de- 
priving them of the rights of citizenship. 

1 should think, Socrates, he said, 
that no punishment could be too severe 
for these wretches, who stir up the com- 
mon people to sedition and make it even 
dangerous to ride through the streets in 
a motor-chariot without being degraded 
with hootings, and certainly they should 
be prevented. 

Your informant, Alcibiades, replied 
Socrates, may have misled you as to the 
character of the movement, for if I mis- 
take not he came straight from the Ex- 
[48] 



ON SOCIALISM 

change, and it is barely possible that he 
might not have the truth of the matter, 
for those who live by finance and this 
modern method of juggling may not know 
the truth of the matter. 

And yet, replied Alcibiades, you must 
know that the daily papers have little to 
say in their favor. 

And who are the Editors of the papers? 
asked Socrates, smiling. 

I should say they were men of Intel- 
lect. 

And do they run their papers by their 
Intellect alone, or is there something else? 

Something else. 

What is that thing? 

I should say it was money. 

And is it their money or money of some 
one else? 

I cannot answer that, Socrates, for, in- 
deed, I do not know. 

But would it surprise you, my friend, 
[49] 



THE NEW PLATO 

to learn that it was some one else's 
money? 

That may well be. 

And if some one else's money that it 
was the money of financiers? 

I begin to see now, Socrates, what you 
mean. 

And possibly this is why when Ora- 
tors of Socialism talk, no one reports their 
doings, so that in silence they may be 
organizing and changing the hearts of 
the people, although this is not reported 
because the Editors are in reality slaves. 

By Jupiter! my boy, you are keen on 
the scent, yet we have not yet found out 
what Socialism is, and this seems impor- 
tant. Will you, therefore, ask, and I will 
answer, or I will ask and you answer? 

As you will. TsTow a great many peo- 
ple think it a bad thing and a menace to 
all civilization. But I should like to know 
your opinion, Socrates. 
[50] 



ON SOCIALISM 

I can only give you that, Alcibiades, 
by asking you some questions. First, 
then, there are multimillionaires. 

So I have heard. 

And I believe there are people who 
cannot support themselves. They are in 
the majority, are they not? 

I should say they were. 

And can you tell me, my dear friend, 
what Wealth is? 

Would I be wrong in saying that it is 
Labor, Socrates? 

That is an excellent reply; and, yet, I 
should rather say that it was Work. 
I^abor means working with one's hands 
under control, whereas Work means all 
effort, mental or physical. And Wealth 
really represents effort in all its branches, 
mental and physical. A day laborer may 
earn one dollar a day. An artist, painting 
a thousand-dollar picture, earns what one 
thousand men earn in one day, or one hun- 
[51] 



THE NEW PLATO 

dred men working ten days. Now, Alci- 
biades, when a man has milHons, what 
does he really control? 

Work, of course. 

Or what other name is there? 

Why, I suppose you might say Men. 

Yes — Men. Therefore, each multi- 
millionaire really controls a vast army, 
and though his purposes and aims are con- 
cealed, he directs his army and makes it 
do as he pleases. 

I see that quite plainly, Socrates, and 
now, let me ask you a question. Just how 
can he direct his army? 

Surely, Alcibiades, you are entitled 
to know. He uses his army in many in- 
direct and fortuitous ways to control the 
State, to administer injustice, to keep the 
people down, to advance the price of land 
and other necessaries, besides controlling 
the press. In the old days, Alcibiades, 
the man who owned an army was forced 
[52] 



ON SOCIALISM 

to maintain it. But in these days the 
owner of an army makes it pay its own 
dividends. That is why it grows so con- 
stantly. 

But what, O Socrates, has all this to 
do with Socialism? 

Only this, Alcibiades, that all the armies 
owned by multimillionaires are beginning 
to do something. 

And what, pray, is that something? 

They are beginning to think. 

And is this Socialism? 

I should say you were right, Alci- 
biades. 



[53] 



LEARNING 



LEARNING 

{As Narrated by Agathon) 

I WAS walking yesterday near the 
Phalerian Wall, on the road leading 
toward the Acropolis, where I intended 
to view the new work done on the Temple 
of Erechtheum, when I met Axiochus, 
who as you know, is the father of the boy 
Cleinias, and he related to me a conversa- 
tion he had had the day previous with Soc- 
rates. 

Axiochus was anxious about his son, 
and he had applied to one of the Sophists, 
I think it was Euthydemus, with regard 
to his instruction. But afterward he met 
Socrates near the Palaestra. 

I was considering, he said, what is 
[57] 



THE NEW PLATO 

Education, and I should like to ask you, 
Socrates, how you view the whole matter. 
For I wish my children to be brought up 
in the best manner, and I would have them 
under the right teachers. Only yesterday 
I was looking in one of the magazines and 
I saw several pages devoted to this sub- 
ject, with schools and colleges, each one 
of which, according to its own statement, 
appeared to be the best. And then there 
are the schools furnished by the State, 
which are cheaper, and I have heard it 
stoutly maintained were better. And I 
should like to have you enlighten me on 
a subject which is dear to me and impor- 
tant, not only to myself, but to the State. 
I only wish I might give you the 
knowledge you desire, my friend, said 
Socrates, but my wisdom extends only 
to asking questions, and as you are a 
parent, you doubtless know much more 
than myself, who have never had any edu- 
[58] 



LEARNING 

cation, as I speak but one language and 
have never even been through Yale, Har- 
vard or Princeton. But first, I should 
like to ask you what they teach at these 
schools and colleges? 

Everything, Socrates. So far as I 
know, nothing is missing, and even de- 
portment and manners and religions are 
taught. 

And this must be why, said Socrates, 
with a smile, our youth are all growing 
so intelligent, for in one of the new cars 
that runs on rails, dedicated to the God- 
dess Electra, I observed that the maidens 
all stood up, which seemed to me good, for 
it showed that the fleeting and mistaken 
deference for women, which has been too 
common, is going out. And if it be true, 
Axiochus, that they are taught everything, 
surely that is enough, and any school is a 
good one, and .that ends the matter. 

But I have observed, Socrates, that 
[59] 



THE NEW PLATO 

other young men who have been through 
these schools, while they do appear, in- 
deed, to know everything, when they come 
out are never able to do what they appear 
to know, and this seemed to me curious. 
For, although they are taught language, 
they cannot use it, and though they are 
taught architecture, they cannot build 
a house. And though they are taught 
chemistry, they seem very far from being 
chemists, for they puff continually at a 
white roll which is called a cigarette, and 
their talk is of nothing but sports, such 
as golf and football and of love-making. 

Well, then, Axiochus, perhaps the case 
is not so bad as it appears. And let me 
ask you, if you desired to learn the art of 
smoking cigarettes, to whom would you 
apply? 

To a cigarette smoker. 

And if you wished to learn football? 

To a football player. 
[60] 



LEARNING 

And these young men are cigarette 
smokers and football players. 

That appears to be the case, only the 
cigarette smokers are not football play- 
ers. 

You mean there are two classes — one 
of football players and the other cigar- 
ette smokers. 

So it would seem. 

Let us proceed a little further, Axio- 
chus, and not be disdainful at the turn 
the argument is taking. For we have this 
to console us, that neither of us knows the 
truth ; so, no matter how little we succeed, 
we can be no worse off than we are now. 
And I would ask you now if you wished 
to learn how to build a temple or a house, 
to whom would you apply? 

To an architect. 

So, then, Axiochus, if you desired to 
learn cigarette smoking and other sports 
you would go to school and college. 
[61] 



THE NEW PLATO 

That seems quite evident, Socrates. 

But would you go because these things 
are taught there, or because those who 
practise these things are there? 

Because of the latter. 

And if you wished to learn house- 
building, where would you go, to school 
or to an architect? 

As I have said, I would go to an archi- 
tect. 

And would you go to school to learn 
cliemistry, or to a chemist? 

To a chemist. 

Then it appears, O Axiochus, that if 
you wish to learn a particular thing the 
school is the wrong place to go. 

So it would seem, Socrates, and yet 
I cannot but feel there is something wrong 
with the argument, because it is common 
sense to believe that everj^body would not 
be sending their children to school and 
college if they did not learn anything. 
[62] 



LEARNING 

At this Socrates, who was in his best 
humor, for Xanthippe, his wife, was off on 
her summer vacation, smiled and said : O 
Axiochus, let us offer a libation to the 
gods, for by the dog of Egypt, we shall 
refuse to let a slight difficulty confuse us. 
And I am as ready as you to believe that 
we have not yet succeeded in discovering 
the truth. Let us therefore approach the 
argument from another point. And it 
occurs to me right here that we should in- 
quire more definitely about the schools. 
If, in teaching architecture, they do not 
employ architects, or in chemistry, chem- 
ists, or in rhetoric, rhetoricians, then whom 
do they employ? 

They employ teachers, or professors, 
but in the case of rhetoric, they employ 
rhetoricians. 

Then, my dear boy, we must go back, 
for we have made a fatal error, as it seems 
that in some cases we should be able to 
[63] 



THE NEW PLATO 

learn, for instance, rhetoric from rhetori- 
cians, but not architecture from architects, 
but this latter only from professors. 

Yes, so it would seem. 

Then there are two classes of those 
who teach — those who are actually prac- 
tising the thing they teach — for otherwise 
they would not be called by the name — and 
others who only teach but do not practise. 
That is to say, from rhetoricians or pro- 
fessors of rhetoric we learn that which they 
practise, likewise from mathematicians 
the same, but in the case of architecture 
and so on, we only learn from teachers. 

That appears to be so, Socrates. 

And what is the difference between 
one who practises and one who teaches 
but does not practise? 

I should say — and you must correct 
me if I am wrong — that one of them learns 
from some one else, while the other learns 
directly. 

[64] 



LEARNING 

That seems to be a good answer, 
Axiochus, only it appears to me that if 
we would simplify the case, we might say 
that knowledge such as men appear to be 
possessed of is derived in two ways — first, 
by the mind alone, and second, by the mind 
and the hands. Now I am of the opinion 
that rhetoric or mathematics cannot be 
taught, for it appears to me that these 
things we know already, and that to arrive 
at conclusions concerning them we are 
made to recollect what has already been 
in the soul, which is my doctrine of remi- 
niscence. And I should like to call that 
boy to prove what I say. 

Socrates: Here, boy, how old are 



you? 




Boy: 


Eight, sir. 


Soc: 


And have you ever been to 


school? 




Boy: 


No, sir. 


Soc: 


That is a piece of bad fortune 




[65] 



THE NEW PLATO 

on your part, for otherwise you might 
know already more than I have acquired 
in fifty years. Now, boy, here is a cord 
from your sandal. Put it on the floor 
there as straight as you can. What line 
do you call that? Is it a straight line? 

Boy: Yes, sir. 

See. : Now take another cord and put 
it along by the other, and, boy, put it so 
that they will be the same distance apart. 

Boy: Yes, sir. There they are. 

Soc: Now, I ask you, boy, if Pal- 
las Athena were to present you with a 
Hermes wand so that you could stretch 
out those lines forever — just as long as 
you can think — when would they come to- 
gether? 

Boy: They couldn't meet, ever. 

Soc. : How do you know? 

Boy : I don't know. I only know they 
couldn't. 

Then it appears, O Axiochus, that all 
[66] 



LEARNING 

professors are superfluous when they are 
nothing else; but when they also practise 
with their hands, they may be of some 
service. And so I ask you, what is your 
son to be? 

A useful citizen, Socrates, I hope. 

Then, O Axiochus, let him be his own 
teacher in those things of the mind he de- 
sires to learn, and in the arts and sciences 
let him go to those who practise them. 
And where would you send him if you 
desired him to become most proficient in 
cigarette smoking, football playing and 
other sports — such as love-making, which 
we have barely mentioned before, but 
which seems a sport? Where, then, Axio- 
chus, would you send him for these pur- 
poses? 

It appears, Socrates, that I would send 
him to school, for these are the things 
which he would learn there better than 
anywhere else. 

[67] 



ON SURGEONS 



VI 



ON SURGEONS 



(Socrates is the Narrator) 

I WAS just about to remove my san- 
dals, there being no one present 
but Agathon, when Apollodorus came in 
with Eryximachus, the physician, or per- 
haps I should say surgeon, for I believe 
there is a distinction between them. And 
Apollodorus introduced him to me as 
being the most distinguished and costly of 
them all. 

Sit here, Eryximachus, said I, for I 
have a desire to converse with you. And 
first tell me how you came by your vogue. 

Easy enough, Socrates, he said with 
a smile. I performed operations enough, 
and I cultivated a kind of austerity and 

[n] 



THE NEW PLATO 

knowingness which prevented my patients 
from questioning me too closely. For 
this filled them with awe of me, and I can 
assure you that this is my most valuable 
asset. 

Well, now, I said, I would have you 
consider how far your skill entered into 
it. Also if there were any others like you 
who could have done the same for less 
money. 

You are insolent, Socrates, he said, 
and would have moved his seat, but Apol- 
lodorus reminded him who I was and he 
calmed down. 

Remember, I said, I am concerned 
only for the truth of the inquiry. Per- 
haps then you will tell me what skill is. 

It is experience added to native talent, 
I should say. 

Well, then, there is the skill of the tailor, 
the shoemaker, the weaver. And is yours 
the same skill, or is it different? 
[72] 



ON SURGEONS 

I should say different. 

The tailor sews cloth with his hands, 
and you sew flesh with yours. 

I think that is so, Socrates. 

And does the method of sewing cloth, 
or the cut of the cloth, or the eye of the 
maker, differ from the method of sur- 
gery? 

It seems so. For one thing, flesh is 
more valuable. 

You surprise me greatly, Eryxim- 
achus, because I was of the opposite 
opinion. I was down by the Academy 
yesterday and a workman was run over 
by a motor-chariot whose owner had in- 
sured himself against such annoyances by 
paying a small sum. And the man was 
taken into an ambulance, and shortly he 
died while the surgeons were smoking and 
laughing. And the next day I looked in 
the papers, but his name was not recorded. 
He was a common laborer, Eryximachus, 
[73] 



THE NEW PLATO 

whom possibly you would not have treat- 
ed. You have said that flesh is valuable. 

I do not mean all flesh, Socrates. 

Oh, now I begin to see. You should 
have been more careful in your statement. 
There is then a difference. There is the 
flesh of the laborer. 

Cheap flesh. 

And of the millionaire. 

That is valuable. 

But is it valuable because it is flesh? 

Not necessarily, Socrates. It is valu- 
able because it is valuable. 

Then when you are bidden to go some- 
where, Eryximachus, you go not to the 
calls of flesh, but to something else? 

Yes, Socrates, it is something else, now 
that you are condescending enough to say 
so. 

I am not saying so. I am only asking 
you whether it is so or not. And when 
you operate, you do not really operate on 
[74] 



ON SURGEONS 

flesh, but on something else besides 
flesh. 

You must know, Socrates, you aj^pear 
to be so wise. 

But is it flesh, Eryximachus, or is it 
something else? 

It must be flesh. How can it be some- 
thing else? 

But if it was the flesh of a pauper, 
there would be no operation, so far as you 
are concerned. 

I think not. 

And if the flesh of a millionaire, there 
would be. 

I should try to make it so. 

What then is the difference between 
them? 

I should say money. 

Then, O Eryximachus, do you operate 
on money or flesh? 

It seems that I operate on money. 

So it would seem. And this puts me 
[75] 



THE NEW PLATO 

in great trepidation, for there is none so 
poor as I; therefore, I would have to die 
without you operating on me, and surely, 
Eryximachus, this would be a calamity; 
nevertheless, I should try to bear it, being 
a philosopher. 



[76] 



THE TARIFF 



VII 



THE TARIFF 



(Socrates is the Narrator)] 

YESTERDAY I returned from the 
Peace Conference at Paris, and 
thought I would go and look at my old 
haunts. So I went into the Palsestra of 
Taurus, which is over against the Temple 
of the Stock Exchange, near Trinity. 

And while I was there a number of per- 
sons came up and spoke to me. And 
among others Critias, who asked me if I 
had met Camigas at the Conference. 

I believe he was there, I said, but I 
did not see him. 

I should like, said Critias, to have you 
talk with him of the Tariff. 
[79] 



THE NEW PLATO 

And so we called him, and Carnigas 
and we sat down together. 

He is the one whom they say has done 
more for the Tariff than any one else, and 
has derived profit from it, so that the 
Theater of Dionysus has been rebuilt 
according to his direction, with his name 
just above the statue of Athene. Which 
would be accounted a sacrilege by some, 
only in these days we are so much more 
liberal. 

What is the Tariff? I said abruptly 
to Carnigas, for I did not like his manner 
as he sat beside me. He appeared to be 
a strutter, and I had a wild-beast kind of 
feeling for him which I endeavored to 
control. 

The Tariff, he said, is for the bene- 
fit of manldnd in general, and for me in 
particular. 

And the Tariff makes articles scarce? 

Yes, Socrates. But on the other hand, 
[80] 



THE TARIFF 

it makes higher wages, and the many 
would not have as much money as they 
do without a Tariff. 

And you yourself, Carnigas, would not 
have so much. 

No; I could not give away so much 
to the poor. 

That would be a pity. 

But, I assure you, Socrates, the Tariff 
is a splendid thing. 

I could not help smiling at Carnigas, 
he was so earnest. 

I am not disputing you, I said. Let 
us, however, proceed with the argument. 
Of necessities, Carnigas, there are a few 
and the many. 

Yes. 

And when they are few it is better for 
all, because there is more money to pay 
for them. 

Yes. 

[81] 



THE NEW PLATO 

Then, let me ask you, Carnigas, are 
laborers a necessity? 

Oh, yes, assuredly. 

But there is no tariff on laborers. 
They are urged to come in, they are 
forced to come in, agents are sent out to 
make them come in. 

But, Socrates, our steamship compa- 
nies would suffer if they didn't bring them 
in. And our steamship companies are 
controlled by financiers, and financiers are 
necessary to run the State. 

I am glad you mentioned that, Car- 
nigas, because if the Tariff, by not inter- 
fering with the laborers who come in is 
of benefit to the financiers, then, of course, 
when it does interfere with other neces- 
sities and prevents their coming in, why 
then that is a bad thing for the financiers, 
isn't it? 

Carnigas was silent for a moment. 
[82] 



THE TARIFF 

You are trying to trip me up, he said 
at last. 

I wish I had that power, I repHed, 
gently. 

At this his eye twinkled. 

I might say to you, he replied, that 
the Tariff benefits the few at the expense 
of the many, and that is why it is imposed 
on all necessities except laborers. For the 
financiers who control the State wish to 
keep the price of everything high which 
they sell; but labor, which they buy, they 
wish to obtain at the lowest price. But if 
I said all this you would not believe me. 

O Carnigas, I replied sadly, how then 
could I help but believe you, seeing that 
you have become so rich by just such a 
method? 



[83] 



PHILOSOPHY 



VIII 



PHILOSOPHY 



CHARMIDES: I am glad I hap- 
pened to meet you, Socrates, for I 
was lately wrestling in the gymnasium 
with Philopoemen and afterwards Craty- 
lus came in and discoursed about Philoso- 
phy and urged me to take it up. 

Socrates : I thought Cratylus was the 
one who dealt with words and their mean- 
ing; but here comes the fellow now, and 
we shall no doubt be enlightened. Ah, 
Cratylus, is it true, as Charmides says, 
that you have been urging him to take up 
the study of Philosophy? 

Cratylus: Yes, and I maintain that 
it is the most useful thing there is and 
[87] 



THE NEW PLATO 

that every young man should devote him- 
self to it, and there is a book on the sub- 
ject that I should like to have him read, 
as it will surely give him a larger idea of 
life and make him broad and liberal. 

Soc. : I am surprised, Cratylus, that you 
speak of only one book, for, while I am 
not a reader of works of Philosophy, I 
am of the opinion that there are several 
books on the subject. Now, is this book 
different from the others, or is it like 
them? 

Cr. : It is both different from some and 
it is like others. For you must know, Soc- 
rates, that it has only just been published. 
It has the advantage of being later than 
all the rest, and therefore is of greater 
value. 

Then one which was published before 
has less value? 

Yes, that is so. And for this reason 
those who now write can acquaint them- 
[88] 



PHILOSOPHY 

selves with what has already been done, 
and where there are errors they can cor- 
rect them. And thus they can improve 
on the past. 

What a pity, Cratylus, that we could 
not have postponed our entry until a later 
day, when we could then be so much more 
wise than we are now. We must, how- 
ever, submit to the inevitable and struggle 
with what we have. But first let me ask 
you a question. If a barber desires to 
make his trade a profitable one, in what 
does he become skilful? 

In the use of the razor and the cutting 
shears. 

And if a builder builds, with what does 
he build? 

He uses the hammer and the saw and 
other like instruments. 

And how about the farmer? 

With him it is the plow and the reaper. 

Then, in general, the workman uses 
[89] 



THE NEW PLATO 

those things which are given to him to 
further his particular object? 

Yes, Socrates, and I would anticipate 
you, for you are about to say that Philoso- 
phers use words as their tools, and here I 
agree with you, for this indeed is their 
use. And what better tools can they work 
with? for do not words stand for eternal 
ideas? and therefore they are of the high- 
est use, and that is why I have recom- 
mended to Charmides the study of Phi- 
losophy, because it is more important than 
anything else. 

O Cratylus, I feel myself blushing with 
shame, for even now you are proving to 
me what you say; for are not your own 
words overthrowing all my doubts? And 
I feel sure you must be right. And yet I 
do not quite understand, and I must beg 
you to be patient with me and hear me to 
the end. And I should like to ask you if 
words are all the same so far as their 
[90] 



PHILOSOPHY 

general character is concerned, or if they 
are different. 

They are different, Socrates, in this 
manner: for they are of two kinds, and 
one kind deals with things, and the other 
kind with the relation of things. 

That is quite plain to me, Cratylus. 

For there are words, such as nouns, 
which represent things, and other words, 
such as verbs and adverbs, which deal with 
their relations; and I can plainly see that 
all the words we know may be divided 
into one or the other class. But unless 
there were things, or words that represent 
them, then there would be no relations. 

That is true. 

Then the words which represent things 
come first and the others last, and are 
these dependent upon the others, Craty- 
lus? That is, do they spring from them? 

That is what they appear to do. 

And should you not say then that all 
[91] 



THE NEW PLATO 

words indeed are now of one class — that 
is to say, those which deal with things — 
and that all other words are merely sym- 
bols which represent the relationship of 
these things? 

Yes, that is so. 

And are the words which represent 
things different from each other among 
themselves, or are they quite the same? Or 
are there any classes into which they may 
be divided? For it seems to me impor- 
tant that we should determine this. 

They may be divided, O crafty Soc- 
rates, into two classes, as you suggest, and 
I will explain this to your satisfaction. 
For one class of words represents the 
things we actually see, feel, hear, and taste 
with our bodies, while the other class rep- 
resents those things we think about in our 
minds ; and when we think about them we 
can rearrange them in a wonderful man- 
ner, so that as in a vision we can see all 
[92] 



PHILOSOPHY 

kinds of beautiful images. And this is the 
power of words, O Socrates, and it is what 
makes the difference between us and the 
lower animals. 

I am indeed bursting with gratitude to 
such an able master as Cratylus, whose 
eloquence is well-nigh irresistible, and I 
should like to have you go on and tell me, 
my master, whether the two classes of 
words you have mentioned come together, 
or whether one comes first and the other 
follows. 

I do not think I quite understand you. 

Well, then, this is what I mean: for 
if these two classes of words are entirely 
separate from each other, then we must 
investigate them separately; but if not, 
then we must discover this — if one follows 
the other in a natural sequence, why then, 
they must be joined together somewhere, 
or else they must be entirely independent 
of each other. Now, do the words that 
[93] 



THE NEW PLATO 

represent things we think about, such as 
beauty, truth, charity, and so on, come 
first, or do the words which represent 
things we touch and see, such as horses, 
trees, and so on, come before these? 

I should say the latter. 

And is this always so, Cratylus, or 
are there any words representing things 
we think of, which we can trace back 
to their source and discover that they 
contain something which does not be- 
long to the words representing things we 
touch? 

No, there are no such words. But I see 
what you are trying to do, Socrates, and 
this is to trip me up, for you are trying 
to make out that there is nothing we can 
think about except those things which we 
see and touch; and I believe you would 
be willing to maintain that even these have 
no reality. And I would agree with you 
in this. But it is useless to pin me down, 
[94] 



PHILOSOPHY 

for I still assert that Philosophy is the 
only study. 

O Cratylus, I cannot argue with you, 
nor convince you in any way, for when 
you maintain so sweetly that knowledge 
can be obtained from books, and that 
Philosophy is a necessity, I am forced to 
rely upon words. And as I can find no 
words with which to combat you, except 
those which I learned in my childhood and 
which represent the common things I feel, 
why, I am utterly at your mercy. And 
you only are wise, for you have discovered 
apparently some other way than mine of 
which to convince yourself. Therefore 
we must part. And which way will you 
go, Charmides? For you have heard 
as much about Philosophy as you can ever 
know. 

Char.: I cannot tell. For I am as 
much in the dark as ever. But, as I ob- 
serve, Cratylus is already tired of the ar- 
[95] 



THE NEW PLATO 

gument and evidently feels that he is 
wasting his time, for was not that his wife 
in the distance calling him? I should like 
to ask your advice. What shall I do? 

Soc: If you wish to know, O Char- 
mides, my poor opinion is this: It is 
quite possible that a perfect system of 
Philosophy might be of some use to some- 
body. Before becoming a philosopher, I 
should therefore wait until this perfect 
system is invented. 

And what would you do in the mean- 
time, Socrates? 

I should eat when I was hungry, gossip 
with my neighbors, love when I desired, 
be temperate at all times, and, indeed, go 
about my business. But as for Philoso- 
phy, I would not allow it to fool me with 
false hopes until some one else had first 
demonstrated its value. 

And has not Cratylus demonstrated 
this? 

[96] 



PHILOSOPHY 

Perhaps, O Charmides. You can judge 
of this better when you consult his 
wife. For I heard her complain only the 
other day that while he was using so many 
words, the children were crying for bread, 
and she was obliged to support him with 
the labor of her hands. 



[97] 



THE MISSIONARY 
LOFC 



IX 



THE MISSIONARY 



(The Dialogue is Supposed to be Related 

by Adceimantus of Melita) 

WE went immediately to the house 
of Antiphon, and there, after 
persuasion, he repeated to me what had 
taken place at the time Socrates met 
Apollinaris, the missionary, who had re- 
turned from his residence among the 
heathen. Apollinaris was at the time of 
his visit about sixty-five years old, very 
white for his age, with evangelical side- 
boards, and he had labored hard in many 
vineyards to convert the heathen. 

There were certain tracts which Apolli- 
naris insisted upon reading aloud, having 
been issued by the Foreign Missionary 
[ 101 ] 



THE NEW PLATO 

Society at something less than two hun- 
dred per cent, profit ; and this having been 
done, Socrates said : What do you mean, 
ApolHnaris, when you assert that convert- 
ing all people to your own idea is a sacred 
duty, and that thinking alike for all is 
a necessity? Where there is a like there 
must be an unlike, but you assert that this 
is not so, but that there is only a like. Do 
I understand you correctly? 

That is right, said Apollinaris. There 
can be no unlike but only like, and by 
like I mean only that which I believe 
in, as opposed to all other false doc- 
trine. 

And your object is to convert the 
world to your own view, and to do this 
you would use any means within your 
power; that is, killing and slaying and 
milder persuasions if necessary, and this 
under the pretense of piety. 

Yes, anything. 

[102] 



THE MISSIONARY 

Very well. And I think I understand 
you, Apollinaris, when I say that you 
maintain here at home a vast establish- 
ment for the promulgation of your par-* 
ticular belief in other parts of the world, 
and this is contributed to by many faith- 
ful, and that it occupies expensive build- 
ings and pays its officers handsome salaries 
for doing this very thing that you are 
speaking about. Am I right about this, 
Apollinaris? 

There is some truth in what you say, 
Socrates, replied Apollinaris, stroking his 
beard meditatively; for, indeed, you, 
I perceive, are as keen as a Spartan hound 
upon the scent, in some of these things. 
But as for me, I am an earnest man, and 
have nothing to do with these home mat- 
ters, only my object is to convert the 
heathen to my own view, and I will do 
anything for this. 

Let me understand you clearly, Aj)olli- 
[103] 



THE NEW PLATO 

naris. When you speak of view, you 
mean a belief, do you not? 

Yes; belief is what I mean. 

And there is no other belief but yours. 

Oh, yes; but they are false. 

And yours is the true belief. 

I should maintain that is so. 

And the false is not the true, neither 
is the true the false. Is that what you 
maintain? 

You are right in that, Socrates. 

And that which is false, is false only 
to that which is true, but it is not false to 
that which is false. 

I do not think I catch your meaning. 

There are the false and the true. 

Certainly. 

And if the true were not true to itself, 
it would not be true. 

That appears to be so. 

And if the true were not false to it- 
self then it would not be false. 
[104] 



THE MISSIONARY 

Certainly. 

And if it were not false to that which 
is true, then it would not be true to that 
which is false. 

Yes. 

Would you say, then, Apollinaris, that 
that which is false is true? 

I am tired of hearing you talk that 
way, Socrates, because there appears to 
be little sense in what you are saying. 
And I should think you would know bet- 
ter than that. 

But I assure you, Apollinaris, that I 
am only trying to learn from you, and in 
order to make myself still more obscure, 
this being correct from a philosophical 
standpoint, let me ask you a simple ques- 
tion. Is the true true to itself, or is it 
true to the false? 

To itself, certainly. 

But not to the false. 

No; I should say it was not. 
[105] 



THE NEW PLATO 

Then you are false to the false because 
you are true to yourself. 

Yes, that must be so. 

And if the false is true, as you have 
just admitted, then you are true only to 
yourself but not to any one else who is 
true. 

I should say that was so. 

Then, O ApoUinaris, if this is so, your 
life has been in vain, for you have main- 
tained that you were true to others when 
you were only so to yourself, and in doing 
this you have been guilty of many crimes, 
for you have dealt with innocent and sim- 
ple people discourteously by living among 
them and breaking up their homes by in- 
sisting upon doctrines which are true only 
for yourself but false for them, and you 
have taught them many hateful practices 
which they never knew before, such as rum 
drinking, instead of minding your own 
business and making it impossible for ras- 
[106] 



THE MISSIONARY 

cals at home to extort money to pay them- 
selves exorbitant salaries to maintain a 
hypocritical institution. Is this true or is 
it not true, ApoUinaris? for I would have 
you know that I am a beginner myself. 

At this, ApoUinaris began to look over 
his tracts to find one appropriate, but Soc- 
rates interrupted him, saying, as he rose 
from his couch: 

Before we proceed with the argument, 
I wish, ApoUinaris, you would step across 
the way with me to the house of one just 
off the Agora. He is a barber. 

And what would you have him do? 

At this Socrates smiled. 

O ApoUinaris, I do not like your 
beard, and I wish you would have it re- 
moved at once, for it does not agree with 
me, and it is not according to my view 
of life at all. Therefore I must request 
you to do as I say, or I shall force you to 
it, because you have no right to wear a 
[ 107 ] 



THE NEW PLATO 

beard while I am talking, if I maintain 
that you should not. 

I think, said Zeno, the Eleatic, who 
had just come in, that Socrates is cer- 
tainly going to an extreme, and I should 
advise you, he said, turning to Apolli- 
naris, not to obey him, for surely every 
man has a right to wear a beard. 

I shall certainly do so, said Apolli- 
naris, glaring at Socrates. And as you 
say, Zeno, I have a right to it, and it be- 
comes me very well, and I do not believe, 
so far as I am concerned, that I could 
dwell comfortably with the gods if it 
should be removed, and it seems to be dis- 
courteous in Socrates to suggest such a 
thing, not to say narrow-minded. And 
I shall certainly maintain my freedom in 
this respect. 

Very well, said Socrates, with a smile. 
If you, ApoUinaris, insist upon wearing 
your beard after what I have said, it may 
[108] 



THE MISSIONARY 

remain for the present; but I assure you 
that I shall bring up the matter before 
the Council and see that this beard pays a 
proper tribute for the maintenance of the 
Army and Navy. And I am greatly sur- 
prised, O ApoUinaris, that you, who are a 
missionary, do not at once perceive the 
logic of my demand. 



[109] 



THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 



X 

THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 

THEiETETUS was the son of Eu- 
phronius the Sunian and the pupil 
of Theodorus of Cyrene, and in the war 
with Corinth was greatly renowned. Yet 
before this happened he met Socrates, 
and the conversation is recorded by Terp- 
sion, the servant of Euclid, who asserts 
that it is correct in the main. Now The- 
setetus had come from the Stadium, pass- 
ing by the Acropolis and the Academy, 
and near Areopagus he met Socrates, who 
knew him at once because they resembled 
each other, and they went outside the 
Wall. 

How were you educated, The^etetus? 
asked Socrates. 

[113] 



THE NEW PLATO 

I was sent to kindergarten at the age 
of four and learned many games which 
appeared to be a kind of counterfeit of 
things which occur in nature; and from 
there I went through many classes 
where I was taught a little reading, writ- 
ing and arithmetic, besides manual train- 
ing, physiology, botany, physics, dancing, 
astronomy, history, and a great number 
of other things; and in college I learned 
languages, poker, football, and the nature 
of an oath, besides the manner of spending 
money; and, indeed, money, both getting 
and spending, was the main object, for 
from my earliest recollection my parents 
had taught me that I must train myself to 
make more than any one else in order to 
insure certain privileges at my maturity, 
for this seemed to be the manner of life 
of every one. But I observe that you, Soc- 
rates, have no mind for these things, and 
indeed, I know of cases where men who 
[114] 



THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 

achieved them have snuffed them out by 
suicide, which leads me to wonder about 
the nature of happiness. 

By all means, The^etetus, I should say 
you had a right to know about the thing 
you are asking for, and I can assure 
you that my own desire is to learn also. 
First, then, there is a little matter I 
would ask you about. Will you an- 
swer this question: In case you wished 
to learn music, to whom would you 
apply? 

I should say, a musician. 

And suppose you required a knowl- 
edge of the art of healing. Would you 
also apply to a musician? 

I think not, Socrates. But in that case 
it appears to me that I should apply to a 
physician. 

And to whom would you apply for a 
knowledge of building? 

To a builder. 

[115] 



THE NEW PLATO 

Then, in general, Theastetus, in case 
you desired to know of a particular thing, 
you would go to the one who had made a 
study of it, and who was reputed to know 
about it. 

I should say that was right, Socrates. 

Well, then, would it be fair, or would 
it not be fair, to say that if you desired 
happiness, you would naturally go to the 
one who had acquired it? 

I should say that was fair. 

And do you know of such an one, O 
Thesetetus ? 

I cannot recall any just at present, 
although I know of many who profess 
such a thing. 

I believe some one told me, or I heard 
it at the barber shop, where all kinds of 
gossip float about, that you have for your 
own use several motor-chariots. 

I have three. 

And when you obtained the first one 
[ 116 ] 



THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 

you desired it above all other things, did 
you not? 

I am not sure that I understand you, 
Socrates, because it is not quite clear to 
me that this is so. 

But at the time you acquired the first 
chariot, if there had been any other thing 
that occupied your attention more, which 
was possible for you to acquire, then you 
would have acquired that thing in place 
of the thing which you did acquire^ Is this 
true or not? 

Certainly, it is true. 

Then at the moment when you ac- 
quired this motor-chariot, it represented 
more of this elusive thing which we call 
happiness than anything else of which you 
had knowledge. Otherwise you would not 
have acquired it, but you would have ac- 
quired the other thing, whatever that 
might have been. 

I think you are right, there, Socrates, 
[117] 



THE NEW PLATO 

And when you acquired your second 
motor-chariot you desired that more than 
the first, otherwise you would not have 
acquired it, but would have been content 
with the first alone. 

Certainly. 

And you desired the third more than 
the other two. 

I should say that was right. 

It appears then, Thesetetus, that you 
are still after happiness, for after having 
apparently obtained it on three different 
occasions, you came to me for something 
else that you suppose it to be. 

Well, then, Socrates, I would like to 
ask you if you do not think it would be 
quite fair to say that happiness, whatever 
its real nature, is, so far as we are con- 
cerned, a sort of occupation, or absorp- 
tion, which lasts for a time, and that when 
we are unhappy is when we have nothing 
to occupy us, but are anxiously desiring 
[118] 



THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 

to find something to become absorbed 
in? 

I should think that was a fair ques- 
tion, Theastetus, and if you will permit 
me, I should like to proceed with another. 

Certainly, Socrates, that is the object 
of our discussion. 

I remember recently, on the main road 
that leads out of the city, I saw you one 
afternoon lying at full length in the dust 
under your motor-chariot ; and there were 
a number of urchins grouped about you. 
Shall I say that you were absorbed in what 
you were doing? 

It appears that I was. 

And if you had not desired to be doing 
that above all other things then you would 
not have done it, but you would have done 
the other thing. 

I think that is so. 

Then tell me, O Theastetus, were you 
happy or not? For when you have an- 
[119] 



THE NEW PLATO 

swered this question truly, then we shall 
both know the nature of happiness, which 
I have been told is, after all, a sort 
of Penelope's web which envelopes us 
all. 

No, Socrates, I cannot say that I was 
happy. 

Then in this instance your occupation 
was not happiness. 

So it appears. 

And if in one case then there would be 
others. 

True. 

Then happiness is not occupation or 
absorption, as you have suggested. 

That is quite apparent. 

And that is my own conclusion, The- 
setetus ; and when you have said I am not 
influenced by others, it is only because I 
have found that others are continually try- 
ing to cheat me with false hopes, which is 
the reason why I have eliminated them 
[120] 



THE NATURE OF HAPPINESS 

from my calculations and am seeking for 
happiness where it is more likely to be 
found. 

And where, O Socrates, is that? 

In myself, O Thesetetus. 



[ 121 J 



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